rhythm and hope

First off let me say wow, what a great design meeting we had today. Thanks y'all for being so present and absolutely inspiring!

I just watched Jónsi's newest video for his sharp, happily rhythmic "Animal Arithmetic". I never really liked this song before, but the video put a completely different perspective on not only the essence of the song, but the rhythm and quality of the music. And what is a great music video if it doesn't challenge our understanding and increase our appreciation of the music.

Anyway, here it is:

animal arithmetic from Jónsi on Vimeo.

I love the use of perspective in this video. It creates such an intimate feel, not only with the people in the video, but also with the instruments, and thus the music.

Jónsi always does such a wonderful job with rhythm, and that continues over into his videos. I found while watching this video that even when the rhythm slows in the middle of this song, the energy still holds the same intensity, just waiting to be released. I can't remember what kind of energy that is, scientifically (kinetic is which kind?) and I'm too on a roll right now to look it up, but it is a concept that is very important in theatre as well as music. I stress this concept in rehearsals, especially with the Viewpoints work.


This idea of intimacy specifically applies when discussing how we can create the club scene. Specifically, what will the projection of the bodies look like (I would think using the rear projector, if we have one). Another possibility is to use silhouettes, maybe even in addition to the projectors.

It would be very helpful if, eventually, we could see sketches from somebody of how all of these projections will work on the set. That might be something we want to put into the model, possibly?


Sometimes I wonder why I am so absolutely in love with these Icelanders. Then today I saw a quote about Jónsi from the New York Times that described his voice as "a messenger of ecstatic hope." And that is what this music does for me -- it can travel to the deep dark places of the soul, express the heartbreak of tragic love, and in every other way find a way to match my energy, no matter how dark, but it always has hope. Making that realization now is so completely full circle, because the one tattoo I have is of the last line from "Viðrar vel til loftárása" (a Sigur Rós song off of their album Ágætis byrjun):

the best thing god has created is the new day.



Hope.